


The Venefica

by grimmauldgrrls



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, And Patroclus can read minds so it's kinda POV everyone, Angst, But there's some POV Achilles, Double Agents, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Patroclus, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, but i don't think it's too much, but time is a construct so, i know this is a lot, set in the 17th century-ish, theres's a lot going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmauldgrrls/pseuds/grimmauldgrrls
Summary: When they’re born, every child is blessed, some even given a gift by the Venefica (witches).Patroclus was gifted the ability to hear others’ thoughts. Things quickly soured when his father stole the powers from a member of the venefica while she blessed him. This angered the venefica, who returned and cursed him. His ability would never cease. He would hear all of the thoughts of souls separate from his own constantly.Achilles is gifted with perfection. He is physically flawless. The strongest, the fastest, the most skilled. Always the most talented at everything he tried. He is charismatic, funny, and wicked smart. Achilles is everything a man could want in a son and more.Patroclus is sent away to live as a pupil of The Academy in Phthia. The other boys fear him. Everyone fears him. They all know he’s cursed. But, he supposes they have a right to fear him. Phthia and the Venefica have a very strained relationship with Opus, and though they don't know it, Patroclus is there as a spy
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus of Opus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	1. "Don't even look at him"

**Author's Note:**

> Venefica means witch in Latin. Okay, this is definitely heavily based off of the Song of Achilles, but Achilles is going to be closer to his character in the Iliad. Anyway, hello, pals. This first chapter is just an introduction to this world and is pretty short and uneventful, but the next chapters are going to be much longer and stronger, but I wanted to get this out. Anyway this is fic is the product of my latest hyperfixation. The next chapter should be up by the 18th.

I had prepared myself for communal living. I had prepared himself for communal living where everyone hated me. I had not prepared myself to live with people who feared me. I could hear the other boy’s thoughts as they trickled into the room:

_“So that’s what an accursed-one looks”_

_“Oh great Maga, please don’t make me partner with him in drills.”_

_“Please don’t let him look at me. Please!”_

_“Why is he here?”_

And so on, and so on until their words become an indistinguishable barrage of hostility. I slunk down in my bed, trying to become invisible.

I had been well received at first. But, they didn’t know who, what, I was. Well, the teacher had. He was a harsh man, his hair and beard clipped short. He had walked briskly so that I was nearly jogging trying to keep up with him.

I had been walking with the man, when we passed an open door. Music and warm light streamed out. I slowed trying to see what was inside. The teacher, who had continued on, turned to me his voice low and harsh, “Do not speak to Prince Achilles. Do not even look upon him. He should not be tainted by the likes of you.”

I nodded and ran to catch up.

Despite his hostility, the teacher did not tell the other boys what I was. And I was incredibly grateful. He left me at the door to the dorms, and I tried to prepare myself. I could already hear them yelling at each other. Already hear their thoughts racing.

_“What’s for dinner?”_

_“I’m so hungry.”_

_“What should I say if Achilles sits near me?”_

_“I hate it here!”_

I pushed the door open and felt 16 pairs of eyes fall on me, but for the first, they were not filled with malice but with mere curiosity. A boy walked up to me and said “Welcome to the Academy of Phthia! Sorry to rush you, but you should start getting unpacked. Dinner’s in just a few minutes.” I nodded looking up at the boy who was at least a head taller than me.  
I picked a bed at the end of the room, the furthest from the other boys, and began to unpack my few belongings. I hung my five dark tunics of different shades of blue and green besides the two light yellow tunics already hanging there. All the other boys were wearing similar yellow tunics.

I joined the other boys on their way to dinner wearing one of the yellow tunics, hoping to blend in despite it being far too big for me. My belt was cinched at my waist which, combined with my too big tunic, made me look like a yellow snowman and incredibly out of place on an island in the summer. I did my best to ignore that but I could hear a couple of boys snickering behind me.  
I knew when I was getting closer to wherever they ate dinner. The thoughts from it already audible above the din of the group of boys I was travelling with. I hated the noise. It was constant.  
When we arrived at the great hall, I quickly broke off from the group, moving to sit at a table by myself, as far away from the crowd as possible. Their thoughts still accosted me.

_“Where’s Achilles?”_

_“When will Achilles get here?"_

I huffed. ‘What was so special about this prince’, he wondered, staring gloomily towards the other boys. Then, a boy with golden hair and a perfect face walked in. The other boys clamored for his attention. Their minds all racing trying to think of a way to stand out. Thoughts screamed out how funny Achilles was, how smart Achilles was, how strong Achilles was. I rubbed my temples, head throbbing from the sudden burst of activity. I glared at Achilles, as if he had intentionally caused the sudden racket.

He hadn’t. No, he was perfect, everything I was not. He had everything I had ever desired. He had his own bedroom. He had friends. He had talent.  
Suddenly, I remembered the teacher’s warning: “don’t even look upon him!” I quickly tore his eyes away from Achilles and focused on the table in front of me, tracing the wood with my fingers.  
I didn’t see the headmaster enter but was looking up as his voice boomed from the front of the room.

I didn’t know why, but I could usually tell the differences between people’s real words and their thoughts. The headmaster’s thoughts and words seemed to blend together. Conversations had halted and others’ thoughts had quieted. I honed in on his words working to separate them from his thoughts.  
“Good evening!” The headmaster called. “As you may have noticed we had a new friend join us today.” Headmaster Weisser had slowed at the word friend as if the word displeased him.

 _“Not a friend”_ The headmaster thought bitterly. I didn’t blame him. Still, I felt my face growing hot and stared down at the table feeling eyes on me.

“Please welcome Patroclus of Opus. Son of Menoetius,” he finished. Murmurs filled the room. The relationship between Pythia and Opus was strained. I knew that was why I was here. The king, Peleus, thought I was an offering of peace between the two states. But that wasn’t the truth. I had been sent to the academy as a spy. I was to infiltrate the Phthian ranks, find weaknesses in their defenses, learn their plans and report back to my father. Then I would make my father proud. I would no longer be a nuisance, the one who brought shame upon our household.

I was lost in my thoughts. When I tuned back into what Headmaster Weisser was saying, it was too late. The headmaster looked at me expectantly “And what say you, son of Menoetius?” My breathing hitched. I had no idea what he had said. Finally, I looked up helplessly, “I’msorry” I said, stumbling over my words, stringing them together. He shook his head. The air around me was choked by dead silence in the room and the horror in the other boys’ thoughts.

“Patroclus, accursed-one, you have nothing to say in your defense?” The headmaster asked.

I shook my head, eyes on the floor at his feet.

“Well, there is potential for change,” several people in the crowd actually laughed at that, but he continued, “Even for an accursed one. I have trusted you, taken a risk allowing you to come here. Do not break that trust.”

I nodded but didn’t meet the headmaster’s eyes. Dinner passed slowly. Everyone was talking about me. Their words echoed in my mind. I was glad for their harsh words, angry glares, the comments they whispered to each other. It gave me a reason to hate them. I wasn’t betraying them if they never trusted me, never liked me.

\----

Dinner was over, and I made my way back to the room, practically running. I didn’t wait with the other boys to watch Achilles juggle apples. I was the first one in the room, but I still walked quickly to my new bed with my head down. I put my head in my hands, remembering the rest of the day.

I couldn’t sleep. It was too loud. The other boys’ thoughts were too loud. Everytime I even got close to falling asleep, another boy’s nightmare or wandering thoughts would yank me from sleep’s clutches. I lay on my back looking up at the ceiling and my own thoughts wandered. I hated my stupid curse.  
I, like most royal children, had been given a gift by the Venefica. I was given the gift of telepathy. It was a rare gift. Most children were given gifts like a beautiful singing voice, incredible strength, amazing luck or stunning beauty. My family had been honored with something far more powerful.

However, my father, Menoetius, did not care about honor. He knew there were things that were far more important. While they were in his house, my father had stolen the powers of one of the Venefica. He took the power for himself, essentially becoming a Venefica himself. When the true Venefica realized what had happened, they were furious.  
In a fury, the Venefica returned to my father’s castle. As punishment for his actions they cursed his wife and child. His wife, my mother, they cursed with horrible headaches. His son, me, was cursed with a never ending barrage of voices from those around him.


	2. The Closet

After the first day, most of my days were the same. I woke up, got dressed and went to breakfast, always leaving before the other boys to ensure my spot at the forgotten table in the back of the room.

Breakfast was fine. Most of the boys and even the teachers were ill-tempered and groggy in the morning. This meant if anyone noticed me, I’d be subject to a barrage of attacks, and no one would do anything about it. I almost never made it through a meal without some type of food staining my tunic. Prince Achilles was the worst. When he noticed me, he would use me as target practice to show off the accuracy of his throws, hitting my ear with a grape or my chest with an egg from across the room.

After every meal, I would have to change my tunic and clean my old one. Soon my fingers began to crack from the lye soap. These cleaning sessions made me perpetually late to my classes to which I would arrive, wearing bleached tunics reeking of lye. I stood out, and soon, even the instructors grew to dislike me. _It doesn’t matter_ , I tried to remind myself _You don’t like them either. This will all be over soon._

Still my heart caught in my chest every time I entered a room. I dreaded the stares and whispers. The terrified thoughts: the bargaining that I wouldn’t sit next to them, the racing thoughts whenever I spoke, the cruel observations about my face or my body. It wasn’t just the students but the teachers too, jumping when I’d answer a question.

The trainers never let me practice offense; they didn’t want to give me more “power.” But their terror grew when I proved to be a worthy opponent. My ability to know my opponent’s moves before they did them as well as years of drills and conditioning in Opus made me a good fighter.

I didn’t like fighting. That might have been why my father sent me here as a spy. I couldn’t embarrass him on the battlefield through a refusal to fight. My mistakes would be concealed. Or perhaps he just wanted to be free from the accursed son who brought shame to his name.

Nevertheless, I proved a challenge to the other boys during drills, and this angered some of them, the boys who were used to going through their training drills unmatched. They expected the other boys to drop their weapons, and I didn’t. This grew the target on my back.

The boys would chase me after training and lessons, pelting stones at my back (while making sure to never touch me).

After training, my body would already be tired from drills and as I ran my limbs would scream begging me to stop. My breathing would come in rasps, my throat hot and dry. Eventually I would climb a tree or huddle behind a rock to hide from the other boys.

They feared my touch as if my curse was a disease that they could catch if they came into close enough contact with me. I could hear it in their thoughts, the small relief that washed over them when they could not find me. They had no plan for if they ever caught up to me.

After I lost them, the boys would head back up to the castle and leave me alone. That was my favorite time of the day. There I would sit in the trees, all by myself, and it would be quiet. Not silent. Just quiet. I could stay there for an eternity, alone with my thoughts and just my thoughts. But, I couldn’t stay, and begrudgingly, I would climb out from behind the rock or down the tree to return to the academy for dinner.

Dinner was my favorite meal. It was the quietest meal, free from the ill-temper of breakfast and recklessness of lunch. Thoughts still raged and Achilles would still use me as target practice on occasion but it was quieter and safer than the other meals.

During one dinner, probably my second week there, I looked up at Achilles. I had taken to doing this often for reasons I didn’t know. While watching him, I learned that he would normally push his “throwing food” to the side of his plate. He would almost always finish eating the rest of his food before accosting me. So, I took to glancing at him throughout meals to try to gauge how long I had before Achilles started his assault. That day, he caught me watching him. Our eyes met across the dining hall. Immediately, I dropped my gaze. My face was burning, and my heart clenched inside my chest. _What if he tells someone?_ I thought, _What will they do to me?_

My mind raced through all the horrible punishments I had seen my father inflict. _Will they blind me? Brand me with an iron? Lock me outside in the harsh winter?_ I expected to see the headmaster strolling up to my table ready to inflict whatever punishment he saw fit. But, Achilles had ignored my disrespect. He was busy making the other boys laugh. Half of them didn’t even find his joke funny but they laughed with full bravado hoping to impress the prince.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. The other boys’ thoughts seemed to be getting louder:

_“I will be the greatest warrior”_

_“I have no idea what I am doing”_

_“Why won’t Marcus stop snoring?”_

They murmured incessantly. Once I was sure they were all asleep, I slipped out of my own bed to explore The Academy. I had been at there for three weeks at that point and had done a rather lousy job as a spy. I caught conversations between teachers and tried to focus on the staff table during meals. But my efforts had been half-assed at best. It may have been because perhaps even then, I guessed at my father’s true plans for the war.

I didn’t like war but I liked the plans my father had laid out for me. He had given me a speech before I left. If I’m honest, it was probably the longest he’d ever talked to me if not scolding me or ranting about my shortcomings. “Patroclus,” he said “the world is out of balance. The power belongs to the few. The Venefica can share their power. Yet they refuse to. They keep it all for themselves and only help the people they like. Where you’re going, Phthia, is rich because it is favored by the Venefica. Look outside the window. Our people are starving, our crops wilting because the Venefica do not like us. They punish our entire state because of a feud with me. They use their powers against our people. Against your people. Against you.

I intend to change that. People don’t have to be cursed. But to make that change we must steal the power from the Venefica. We know it’s possible. I have already done it. They are not better than me… or you because they have powers. They are people just like everyone else and the rest of the people deserve better.”

I had passionately agreed. “Yes, and the Venefica shouldn’t just bless the royals. All people deserve equal protection from the Venefica. If the Venefica won’t do that, then their power should go to the people.” My father merely nodded and quickly left the room. He hadn’t really been paying attention to what I was saying.

Remembering that filled me with a new sense of pride and meaning. Not only was I going to help the people, but my father would finally be proud of me. If I could pull this off and virtually win the war for my father, I would no longer be the son who brought shame to his name, but the son who made a difference.

As I walked through the halls, I built a map of the school in my head. The whole place was asleep. I didn’t see anyone out. There wasn’t a single light on, not a single candle lit. I passed the headmaster’s suite and the great hall, then the classrooms and the courtyard. As I continued, the urgency that had been nipping at my heels gave way to exhaustion.

I could barely walk by the time I returned to the hallway where I slept. However, I couldn’t make myself return to my room. To my delight, I found a linen closet in the expanse between my room and the great hall. It was quiet, and I wasn’t really thinking. I just needed a place to sleep.

When I woke up there was light shining from underneath the door. I cursed. That meant I had likely missed breakfast. I untangled myself from the blanket I had slept with and unsteadily made my way towards the door. My steps were uncoordinated, my legs still stiff from sleeping curled up on the floor. When I made it to the door and tried to open it, it wouldn’t open. I pushed and pulled at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Horror washed over me as I realized the door had been locked from the outside.

Perhaps, when I stumbled into the closet the night before, I didn’t realize, but I left the door slightly ajar. Some of the boys could have noticed and found me sleeping in the closet. Thinking it funny, they could have locked the door from the outside, trapping me in. Or perhaps, it could always be locked from the outside to prevent maids and guards from secretly meeting there while working.

I cursed. I had no idea what time it was, no idea how many classes I had missed. What drills I had missed. No matter how few I had missed, I knew I would be punished. I sat down leaning against the back wall and weighed my options. Do I call out for help and possibly catch the attention of the other boys who would harass me further or do I wait until someone comes and finds me. It would likely be some maid just trying to do her job or the boys who locked me in here who found me. Either way, if I called for help or didn’t, it seemed like a lose-lose situation. Either way I would be punished.

I banged on the door. Deciding it was best to get the worst over with as soon as possible. “Please!” I called, “I’m trapped in here!”

After banging on the door for what felt like an hour but was probably closer to ten minutes, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I continued banging on the door and called out for help as the footsteps came closer.

Suddenly the door opened and Prince Achilles barreled into me sending us both sprawling into the closet. As we started to untangle ourselves, I heard the door slam shut.

“Shit!” I yelled as I pulled away from the prince.

“What?” Achilles asked, looking slightly offended.

“Now we’re both locked in here. Someone locked the door from the outside,” I replied.

“Shit.” Achilles agreed and then squinted his eyes adding, “what are you doing in here?”

My mind raced. I couldn’t very well tell him the truth. How would that go: ‘Hey Achilles, Prince who I have never officially met and probably hates my guts, you know, I was just spying on your kingdom for my father. But it’s okay, don't worry, I didn’t find anything of substance because I got so tired I could barely walk and ended up falling asleep in a linen closet.’ No, that wouldn’t work. I decided I could tell him half of the truth. “I couldn’t sleep around other people. Too loud. I left to find some place quieter and I found this closet. It was nice last night….” I said trailing off.

“Yeah, it’s not so nice now,” Achilles bit back.

“What are you doing over here?” I asked changing the subject. Prince Achilles had no reason to come down this far. His room was much closer to the great hall and the classrooms.

“None of your business,” he snapped.

“I was just wondering,” I murmured under my breath. Looking at him made me mad. I couldn’t look at his face without seeing his stupid smile as he lobbed food at me during meals.

“What did you say?!” He asked, raising his voice.

“Nothing, Jeez” I said back exasperated.

“It wasn’t nothing. I heard you say something. I don’t like to be lied to,” he said his voice dripping with entitlement.

“Fine, I said: I was just wondering. See, nothing.”

“Whatever”

There was a long awkward silence until I finally gathered up the courage to ask: “Why do you do it?”

“Do what?” He responded, his brow furrowed.

“Throw food at me?”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, “I don’t know. It’s fun.”

I was about to respond, when I remembered. Quickly, I dropped my gaze from Achilles and began apologizing profusely remembering how the teacher had told me to not even look at Achilles and here I was talking to him. Fighting with him. He hadn’t seemed at all offended though, just annoyed.

But now he frowned, “What are you apologizing for?”

I felt the room closing in on me. “I’m not supposed to look at you. Let alone talk to you. I was expressly forbidden from talking to you.”

He laughed at that, but stopped when he saw my face, deadly serious and filled with shame. “What,” he said, “you’re being serious?”

I nodded, “You’re the blessed prince. I’m an accursed one. ‘I am not worthy to look upon you.’” I said using air quotes, “I could taint you or something.”

Achilles flopped on the floor and said, “that’s stupid.”

I shrugged. “Well no one else thinks that it is. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll get my ass beat either way for missing classes.”

He said nothing in response and we sat in awkward silence until he stood up and made his way over to the door.

“It won’t open.” I said. He ignored me pushing and pulling at it, but it wouldn’t budge. “I told you it wouldn’t open. It’s not like I can’t open a door,” I mumbled and Achilles whipped around on me.

“Well, it would have been stupid of me not to check,” Achilles griped, “besides I don’t know what your curse is. Maybe you can’t open doors or something.”

“That would be a stupid curse.” I replied

“No, it wouldn’t!” He retorted, “It would make someone’s life really difficult. They’d always be trapped.”

I thought about it being trapped all the time. I was about to concede that being unable to open doors was in fact a horrible curse, when it hit me. “I can’t hear you!” I said, shock rushing over me.

He looked at me, his head tilted to the side. “Well obviously you can.” He replied, “We’ve been talking.”

“No, no. That’s not what I mean. Your thoughts. I can’t hear your thoughts.” I looked up at him, he looked totally and completely lost. “My curse,” I continued, “I hear people’s thoughts all the time. That’s why I couldn’t sleep with the other boys in the room.”

He nodded slowly. “That doesn’t really seem that bad.” I raised one eyebrow,

“Really? It sucks. Imagine never having a moment of silence, always being surrounded by voices no one else can hear. Hearing every horrible thing anyone has thought about you. Knowing everyone’s deepest darkest secret. Knowing every disgusting horny thought the guy in the bed next to you has at night. Yeah because I can’t sleep. Sometimes I can’t even have a conversation because there’s so much going on around me or I can’t hear them over all the thoughts. Does that sound ‘not that bad,’ Achilles.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” he said, sounding totally genuine which surprised me.

“Oh. thanks,” I said

“No problem.” He hesitated, “You can’t hear my thoughts?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know why. Do you just not have any thoughts?”

“No! I’m probably smarter than you.”

“Well… I doubt that. I hear the thoughts of ‘every soul separate from my own.’” I said making my voice higher and more formal as I said the quote

“I was blessed with wits and smarts. I promise I have thoughts. My head is not empty.” He growled.

“Okay,” I shrugged, “whatever you say.”

“I don’t lie”

“I am sure you don’t.”

“You are frustrating.”

“So are you”

“But,” he started hesitantly “If you wanted to you could sleep in my room. There’s a cot that I use as a couch that you could sleep on.”

I was speechless. I couldn’t believe Achilles was offering this to me. I nodded but soon stopped myself. “Thank you, Achilles,” I said, “but I don’t think the school would agree to that. I’m not supposed to look at you let alone sleep in the same room as you.”

Achilles shrugged. “Then we can keep it a secret.” He replied matter-of-factly.

“How?” I asked.

“You can just sneak into my room at night like you snuck into this closet. Then you can get some actual sleep.”

“Thank you”

“It’s no problem,” he paused “You’re not like the other boys.”

“How so?”

“You don’t grovel at my feet and worship the ground I walk on. You treat me like a regular person.”

“I might have groveled if I knew how to do so without looking at you.”

He laughed. “That’s easy you just look at my feet.”I laughed too, but he quickly stopped laughing. “I don’t know your name,” he said with a frown, “I only know you as the accursed one. I’ve offered to let you sleep in my room and I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Patroclus.”

“Patroclus,” he repeats. _Pa-tro-clus_.


	3. The Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii guys. So this is hella late from when I said it would be. But that's because I had some trouble with motivation. I'm not in love with this chapter. I'm starting classes soon so I don't know how often I'll update. anyway rip

At night, I would climb into my bed and wait about an hour until all the other boys were asleep and then, I would sneak to Achilles’ room. For the first week, we didn’t talk. He’d pretend to be asleep, but I could see him watching me when he thought I wasn’t looking. He seemed fascinated by me. We were 13 and he had never met an accursed one before. I likely was a novel wonder to him. 

After about a week, he spoke to me for the first time since the closet. “You’re different than I expected,” he said as I sat down on my cot. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“Oh you know,” he said, “We were always told that accursed ones were evil. That they wronged the Venefica and could never be trusted. But you don’t seem like that. You seem so normal. I feel like I can trust you.” 

I felt guilty. I _wasn’t_ to be trusted. I tried to shake off the guilt. I was doing this for the right reasons. Achilles was on the other side. The side that hurt people. The side that cursed me. I couldn’t trust him and he shouldn’t trust me. If he did, that was his own fault. 

Yet, I knew what he was saying. I felt in a way like I’d always known Achilles.

I looked down and murmured, “Thank you.” 

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.” He said flatly. 

“I said ‘Thank you’” 

“Oh… no problem.” 

As the nights our conversations grew longer and longer, stretching out deeper into the night. We mostly talked about him. When he asked about me I’d give a vague answer or change the subject. 

We continued on like that talking about everything from the forests on his father’s estate to our favorite foods.

As the weeks went on, I felt myself wanting to tell him about myself, about my need to make my father proud or the progressive loss of my mother. But I didn’t. I kept the conversations focused on him. 

One night, I asked him why he let me sleep in his room.

“I was fighting with my dad,” he laughed

“What?” I responded

“He wanted me to start connecting with some of the other boys because I need someone I trust to assist me in battle. I didn’t want to. He was angry and told me I had to choose someone to talk to. I chose you. The person he would be least inclined to want to assist me.”

I learned about his father, King Peleus, who we saw frequently. The Academy was on Peleus’ estate and so the king would often have dinner at the Academy. When he did that, Achilles would sit with him up front at the table usually reserved for the instructors. Those days were hard. I’d focus intensely on the king, trying to pick out his thoughts from the rest. It was always too loud and he was too far away. We’d make eye contact across the room and he would smile at me. 

On normal days, I had started to leave my table in the back and sit next to Achilles. I never joined their conversations but I sat and watched them from the inside and as a part of the group. 

He also told me about his mother who he saw much less frequently than he saw his father. 

“She’s a Venefica, you know,” He told me. 

I shook my head. “I thought that Venefica didn’t really interact with humans.” 

“They don’t.” He responded

“So what happened.” 

“It was a trade or something. It’s why I was given such a powerful blessing too. My father and this guy Odysseus lead the states in signing an agreement to protect the Venefica should they ever be attacked.”  
“Why would the Venefica need protection? They’re so powerful.” My father had never told me about this agreement. Could he just not know about it? 

“I think it’s more of an honor thing.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked

“The Venefica, they don’t like using their powers for harm. Using powers against a defenseless human is seen dishonorable.” 

I bit back a laugh. This seemed all too ironic. Quick to change the subject, I just nodded and asked. “What’s she like?” 

“My mother?”

“Yeah” 

“She’s powerful, not necessarily for a Venefica but compared to a human. I don’t know how else to describe her. She’s not warm but she’s not necessarily cold at least towards me. She’s just powerful.” 

I nodded, “I think I know what you're saying. My father--” I cut off, silently cursing myself. I shouldn’t be talking about him. I couldn’t reveal anything about Opus. My father had made that perfectly clear. But, I understood what he was saying. While my father was cold, especially towards me, he also radiated power. Powerful would be the best way to describe him. 

“Your father?” He prompted

“Nothing.” I said quickly.

“You were saying something. I don’t like it when people lie.” He said, anger creeping into his voice.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Okay,” he said, apparently finding that to be a satisfactory answer, and flopped back on his bed. 

Other nights we talked about how much he disliked the other boys. He would say he couldn’t even remember their names and complain about how they annoyed him. 

Even when we were around the other boys, he didn’t really hide the way he felt. He would tell them to “shut up” or ignore them when they talked to him. 

But, he liked their attention. During meals, he put on a show. Even if he disliked his audience, they were still his audience, and they gave him praise and attention. 

He was worse in class. He hated sharing the spotlight with the instructors. He would interrupt the lectures with jokes or sing in the back while the instructors tried to teach them about philosophy or history. 

I tried not to let him distract me but he always stole my focus. By the end of our first month rooming together, he was performing only to me. The other boys were just bystanders who happened to catch his performance. 

This is what pushed them over the edge. _It_ happened around the same time I noticed the change in Achilles’ performances. 

One night, Achilles had the idea to sneak out of school and explore the grounds and his father’s estate. 

“What if we get caught?” I asked, pulling back as he climbed onto his window sill. 

“We won't,” he replied casually.

“How do you know?” 

“I never do. I’m lucky.” 

“I’m not lucky”

“If we get caught, I’ll take the blame.” 

“Okay.” I said and nodded nervously. I didn’t think that was enough, but I found it hard to refuse him. 

With that, he climbed out the window and leapt onto the ground. I followed suit not landing as elegantly as he but still landing light on my feet. 

“I want to show you something,” he said grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hill after him. I stumbled at first then regained my balance and ran with him towards the woods. 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked

“You’ll see!” He looked back at me grinning. “I’ve never been here with anyone before.” He added as he guided me down the rocky hill in the dark. 

“Are you sure you want to take me then?” 

“Of course. It’s not like I have any reason to hide it. I just haven’t had anyone to show it to before you.” 

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I just nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see me. 

“I usually come down here all the time,” he continued as we wound through a maze of trees. 

“Have you not been coming recently? Because of me?” I asked 

“No,” he responds, “Well, yes, but not because I didn’t want to show it to you, We just normally talk and it’s too late by the time you fall asleep.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry” 

“Don’t be. I like talking to you. You’re my friend.” 

I wished he would stop saying things like that. They made me feel so guilty. It didn’t make sense. At first things had been so easy. He and all the other boys had been so mean. They fit what I expected them to. They had no mercy for those who were cursed by their precious Venefica. But Achilles had changed. He genuinely seemed to care about me now. 

Despite my best abilities I was starting to care about him too. Everyday I looked forward to our nightly discussions. It was the best part of my day. I longed to know more about him, to hear his voice as we whispered in the dark. 

“You’re quiet,” Achilles noted. 

“Sorry,” I said

“Don’t be sorry. I like it. I like talking.” 

“I know you do.” I laughed. 

“Hey!” He said and we laughed.

After a moment, I asked, “Should I be scared of this place you’re taking me?” 

“No,” he laughed, “it is merely a place to hide away from the world. You have nothing to fear if you have nothing to hide.” 

“Oh?” I said, the sound strangled. 

“Not really. It just sounded dramatic and I wanted to spook you. I know you have secrets. You’re quiet for a reason. But I’ll figure you out.” 

I swallowed and tried to laugh. It caught in my throat. “Do you have any secrets, Achilles?” I asked changing the subject 

“Not really.” He said as he jumped down into a creek. He extended a hand to me helping me down the steep drop. 

“So, do you have secrets or not?” I asked, accepting his hand and stepping down.

“I do, but nothing of consequence. Just things about myself that no one knows.” 

“Tell me a secret, Achilles.” 

“I have never lost anything.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing. No one has ever taken anything from me and I have never misplaced anything I cared about.”

“What is that like?” 

“I don’t know. What is it like to lose something?” 

I thought of my tunics which mysteriously go missing. I think of the dice my father would take when I cried or struggled in a lesson. I think of my mother, the way she withdrew as I got older and her headaches worsened.

“It’s scary,” I finally said. “It’s terrifying. When you lose something that matters. Even when it doesn’t matter, you panic.” 

He nodded. “I always thought I would be angry if I lost something. Angry at whoever took it. Angry at myself for losing it.” 

“I used to get angry. I still get angry sometimes” He raised a quizzical eyebrow at me, “Not very often. I’m used to it” I added

“That’s sad, Patroclus.” 

“Maybe it is. Maybe it’s just life. Or normal life when you aren’t blessed to be perfect”

He laughed at this. “I don’t think I will ever know a normal life.” 

“Good,” I said, and I don’t know why I said it. 

Despite my attempts to reason with myself, remind myself of the mission, remind myself that Achilles was the enemy, I was glad he wouldn’t have to suffer the loss of a normal life. 

Achilles had stopped walking. We were standing in front of a cave. I could hear water running inside. We stepped closer and I gasped. The inside sparkled even in the dark. Quartz lined the ceiling. 

“It’s beautiful,” I said

“I know,” Achilles said, leading me into the cave. 

We sat in the entrance of the cave in a comfortable silence watching the moonlit forest. We didn’t need to say anything. We could just sit there enjoying each other’s company. 

The next day, I was exhausted. I nearly fell asleep in class and fell behind in training. I knew things were going to go badly when I failed to block Marcus’s attack. I was too slow. 

When the boys inevitably chased after me after training was over, I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t far enough ahead of them when I climbed the tree, and they saw where I went. I could hear their triumphant thoughts seconds after I started climbing. 

They were angry. Their fear of me no longer held them back. They wanted revenge. I was disrespecting Achilles. They had seen us make eye contact, seen me move closer to him at meals, and seen the way I rolled my eyes at his jokes. 

_“How dare he!”_

_“He doesn’t deserve the attention of the blessed prince!”_

_“He thinks he is equal to Achilles!”_

They yelled as they drew near. The rough bark skinned my knees as I pulled myself up onto the next branch. My tunic was sticky with sap. 

I was at least 10 feet up before they caught up to me. One of the boys, Anthony, started to climb after me. My heart was in my throat as I stretched to grab the next branch. My fingers brushed the bark when I felt a tug below me. Anthony had gathered up the courage to touch me and was pulling on my leg trying to pull me off the tree. I turned and wrapped my arms around the trunk. It wasn’t enough. 

Anthony pulled again, harder this time. I lost my footing and began to fall towards the earth. My head bounced against the trunk as I fell. 

_“Shit what did we just do?”_

_“Did I just kill someone”_

Their frantic thoughts did not help my already throbbing head.

Anthony was clambering down the tree after me. “Is he alive?” He called to his friends on the ground. His mind was racing. 

“Yeah. He’s alive,” another one, Marcus, answered as Anthony jumped to the ground beside me. 

“What do we do?” Asked the third boy, Vincent. 

“I’m not carrying him!” Marcus responded with fear coursing through his body. 

“We can leave him here?” Anthony suggested, “I’m sure someone will find him.” 

“He can find his own way back. Look he’s conscious.” Marcus added. 

The three boys agreed and walked back up to the Academy for dinner. 

I tried to push myself up and follow them, but couldn’t get my balance. My left ankle could barely hold any weight and my right arm was virtually useless. Nevertheless, I tried to make my way up the hill. But the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off. I was exhausted and each step took an incredible amount of effort. When I reached the creek about half-way up the hill, I collapsed. 

Achilles told me he had arrived late to dinner that night. I think he felt guilty he didn’t notice I wasn’t there earlier. He knew I was often late and thus wasn’t concerned when I wasn’t there when he first arrived. He sulked through the entire meal, ignoring the boys’ attempts to draw him into their conversation. By the time the end of the meal arrived and I was still missing, he started to worry and tuned into the boy’s conversation. 

“I can’t believe you actually touched him, Anthony!” Said one boy staring in awe at Anthony.

“Someone had to teach him his place.” Anthony responded

“Teach who?” Achilles asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. 

All the boys laughed. “Who do you think?” the first boy asked, his voice filled with mirth. 

“I don’t know,” Achilles said, venom entering his voice. “That’s why I asked.”

“Oh don’t worry Prince Achilles,” the boy responded. “It was no one important. Just the accursed one.” 

“He only got what was coming to him,” a third boy added. The other boys laughed. Achilles didn’t.

“What did you do?!” Achilles growled.

“We just ruffed him up a bit. Pulled his ass out of a tree.” Anthony replied, trying to keep his voice light despite Achilles’s anger. 

Achilles fist connected with Anthony’s nose. “Why did you do that?” he barked. 

The boys were shocked. Achilles often pulled pranks that ended badly. He’d poured water across the courtyard when it was freezing causing an instructor to fall and break his arm. He’d spilled marbles on the floor before everyone else arrived to class causing a pile up of bodies in the doorway. He would always laugh raucously at the carnage he caused, but here he was upset over a no one. 

“We just wanted to teach him a lesson.” another boy answered (probably Marcus but Achilles couldn’t tell me the names of any of the boys). He drew back expecting Achilles to punch him as well. 

Achilles didn’t. “Why isn’t he here?” he asked. 

“We don’t know. We left him down there. Figured he could make it back up by himself.” Anthony responded nursing his possibly broken nose. 

“Well obviously he didn’t,” he paused. “Where did you leave him?” 

Achilles found me about ten minutes later. He found me on the banks of the creek half-conscious. 

“Patroclus!” He called, racing forward. _Pa-tro-clus_

“Achilles?” I responded trying to concentrate on his voice. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” 

“I think I’m just tired.” I said as I tried to stand. 

In an instant he was by my side helping me up. I wrapped my uninjured arm around his shoulders and we slowly made our way up the hill as I tried to keep the weight off my bad ankle.

“God, Patroclus.” He said looking over at me. 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” I said, “My ankle.” 

“And your arm?” He said looking at it hanging limply by my side. 

I am silent. I don’t know what to think. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, breaking the silnce. 

“Tell you what?” 

“That they were hurting you!”

“They never hurt me before. They couldn’t ever catch me. I was just tired today.”

“How often?” 

“Do they chase me?” 

He nods. 

“Everyday,” I answer sheepishly. 

“Everyday?! Patroclus!” _Pa-tro-clus_

“They never catch me!” I protest

“Well they obviously did.” He points out

“I guess before they never did,” I say as we reach the entrance to the Academy. “I should just go to bed now.” I add as he helps me through the door. 

“No, you need to see the healers.” Achilles says holding me back as I tried to hobble towards the bedroom I shared with the other boys. “Besides, I’m not letting you go back there with _them_.” 

“Okay,” I nodded, leaning on him as we worked our way towards the healer’s bay. I felt guilty. He genuinely cared about me, but then again I guess I genuinely cared about him. I tried to shake off the feeling.


End file.
